


An Ode to Lexa

by Combatboots



Series: Clexa Love Week [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Biting, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Marking, No Plot, Oral, Patient Lexa, Smut, Spanking, Top Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:59:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combatboots/pseuds/Combatboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is having trouble sleeping in the cold metal room she and Clarke share during a visit to Arkadia. There is an obvious way to distract themselves. But the paper thin walls have caused them past embarrassment thanks to Clarke's inability to keep quiet. But when Lexa points out that she has no trouble keeping the volume down, inspiration hits Clarke and she sets about helping her lover to forget where she is in the most wonderful way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ode to Lexa

**Author's Note:**

> Authored by 'BOOTS'

An Ode to Lexa

Clarke lifts her head up from Lexa’s chest when she hears Lexa let out a melancholy sigh. She props herself up on her elbow and, with her free hand, reaches out to brush an errant curl back behind Lexa’s ear. Clarke’s brow creases in concern as she observes Lexa’s face.

“Everything ok, babe?” Clarke asks and she catches the lightning quick upturn of Lexa’s lips at the use of the pet name, before Lexa’s face settles back into an unreadable, blank expression.

Another sigh fills the quiet and then Lexa opens her mouth to speak. “I don’t like it in here,” she mutters out quietly.

Clarke feels some relief that it’s something so simple bothering Lexa. She makes a show of glancing around the small room they share in Arkadia’s main building. All cold metal and no doubt far too unfamiliar for Lexa’s tastes. “It isn’t home, is it? But we’ll be back soon. I miss our bed and our furs.”

“Next time we visit, I’m bringing my war tent,” Lexa responds with utter conviction.

Clarke doesn’t doubt that Lexa is serious and she finds herself warming to the idea too. “That’s a great idea. We could make camp outside the walls so you don’t feel so shut in,” Clarke says and as she speaks, her hand absentmindedly returns to Lexa’s ear and begins to stroke lightly against its shell. The action earns her a low rumbling purr. “And it would be more private. These metal walls are paper thin.”

That anything more than a normal speaking voice could be heard by those in the adjoining rooms was something the pair had found out the hard way on their last visit to the Skaikru settlement. Raven still hadn’t let it go and frequently teased Clarke about how loud their sex had been. That was about bearable, if annoying. The way that Abby had pointedly avoided eye contact with Clarke and Lexa the next day however, had quite warned them off trying anything on this visit.

Lexa snorts out a laugh. “That’s a problem for you, Clarke, not me. I can keep quiet.”

Clarke smiles a moment before her lips purse and her eyes narrow as a thought occurs to her. Lexa must have noticed because she shifts on the pillow and squints back in the low light from the electric lamp; a poor substitute for the candles back home.

“What?” she prompts,

“You’re right,” Clarke replies, “You can keep quiet.”

With a devilish smirk, Clarke shifts herself so that she is on top of Lexa. Although Lexa looked a tad bewildered, her legs opened willingly to allow Clarke to settle her hips between them. Clarke stares down into Lexa’s eyes, revelling in the way that her pupils had blown so that only a slither of forest green was left. She always looked stunning from such a position.

“Clarke, what are you doing? We can’t,” Lexa protests. It was somewhat feeble given the eagerness in the way she’d parted her legs, and the way her chest was noticeably starting to heave in anticipation.

“We aren’t,” Clarke argues, “Just you. Let me help you to forget where you are.” 

With that, Clarke lowers herself and captures Lexa’s lips in a deep, wet kiss. Her tongue darts out to tease at Lexa’s bottom lip and then, unsatisfied, Clarke sucks the plump thing into her mouth and catches it between her teeth. Lexa lets out a much happier sigh at that, a sigh that turns into a muffled whine as Clarke’s teeth sink into her lip and give a slight tug. After a while, Clarke releases the lip from her mouth and kisses Lexa more fully, once, twice, a third time before she pulls back and assesses the situation. Her mouth had left Lexa’s swollen and glistening.

“I love your lips,” Clarke murmurs out, suddenly compelled to speak her thoughts aloud. It earns her a raised eyebrow, as if Lexa is waiting for further explanation. Clarke obliges; “I love how full they are, and how swollen and red they look when I kiss you hard. And I love the way they feel when you put your mouth on me.”

Lexa responds with a hard gulp, the action making her neck muscles tense. The sight is irresistible to Clarke. She immediately dips her head and peppers sweet kisses down from Lexa’s jawline to the hollow of her neck.

“You’re jaw and neck are to die for,” she whispers out, the words tickling against Lexa’s flesh. Clarke does not give Lexa the chance to respond however before she places a much firmer kiss at the side of Lexa’s neck and she feels the wonderful play of tensing muscles under her lips, the thud of Lexa’s pulse as her nightblood quickens in excitement. “And I adore the vein in your neck that sticks out when you are angry-”

“You rarely get to see that,” Lexa argues, cutting Clarke’s next part off. Clarke would be more irritated if Lexa’s voice wasn’t so wonderfully raspy.

“Not often,” Clarke agrees, purring the words out, “But sometimes it sticks out when you come, too. And I get to see that quite regularly.”

“Use your mouth on me and you’ll get to see it again quite soon,” Lexa says, a quiet pleading in her voice.

Clarke curls her lips into a wicked smile. “I am using my mouth on you, Lex,” she says and she lands a few more kisses against Lexa’s throat to prove her point.

“You know that’s not what I mean, Clarke,” Lexa protests, clicking her name out.

“I like the way you say my name. Nobody else says it like that,” Clarke shoots back without missing a beat. 

A low growl of frustration makes Lexa’s throat vibrate against her lips when Clarke kisses it once more and Clarke responds by using her teeth against Lexa’s skin. Not enough to mark where it would be visible tomorrow, but a grazing, teasing scrape. Lexa’s next growl is louder.

Quite set on her mission, Clarke shifts a little lower. She pauses before starting her next assault, however, and peers back up into Lexa’s face. Lexa looks beautifully flushed.

“Do you really want me to skip ahead to the finale?” Clarke asks gently. She would if Lexa wants that.

Lexa lets out a breath. “I’m going to regret this, but no,” she replies, “This is nice.”

“Ok,” Clarke says and then she reaches a pointed finger out and traces it lightly from the hollow of Lexa’s throat along the definition of her collar bone. Lexa quivers under her touch at the slight tickle. “I love how sensitive you are here. And how beautiful you look when you wear your coat open,” Clarke says and then she leans down and retraces her finger’s path with her tongue, leaving a wet, glistening trail of saliva over Lexa’s smooth skin. “And I love your shoulders. The muscles there. How they set so rigidly when you are leading your people, or slouch ever so slightly when you sit and read.”

Clarke does not stop there however and she continues on, a passionate mix of teeth and tongue trailing down the length of Lexa’s right arm, “I love your arms. The deceptive strength of them as they wield a sword, or throw a spear,” she says, and then more mischievously, “Or sweep me up off my feet to carry me to bed, or pin me against a wall.”

Clarke halts when her lips find Lexa’s delicate wrists. She takes the hand beneath into her own, strokes her middle finger over Lexa’s palm, stalling to give herself time to find the words to describe exactly how much she adores Lexa’s hands. So far it had been quite easy to speak words so often thought but never really said aloud. Now Clarke begins to doubt herself. Her lips leave Lexa’s wrist with a quiet pop and she opens her mouth to try. “I think your hands are one of my favourite things about you,” she speaks. Then she sits up on her knees and places her other hand over Lexa’s so that she clasps it in both of hers, “They are so soft and elegant. Capable of so many things.” Clarke lifts the hand up towards her mouth, Lexa leaving her arm limp and open to being guided in such a way, “And these wonderful long fingers that drive me wild with pleasure.” 

Clarke presses a hot open mouthed kiss to the tip of each finger before drawing two into her mouth. Her eyes find Lexa’s and the couple stare at one another in unmasked adoration as Clarke tickles the digits with the wet tip of her tongue. She sees Lexa’s lip tremble as she ever so slowly draws back and releases Lexa’s fingers from her mouth, “And I like doing that even more after you’ve fucked me, so that I can taste myself on your skin,” Clarke drawls.

The quiet but ever so dirty whine that escapes Lexa’s lips makes Clarke smile widely against Lexa’s fingers. She guides the hand back to the bed and relinquishes her hold on it as she considers her next move.

“Clarke,” Lexa breaths out, interrupting Clarke from her planning.

Clarke’s eyes dart to Lexa’s face, “Yes, love?” she prompts.

There is a moment, a beat, where Clarke thinks that Lexa’s resolve might be about to break. She imagines Lexa caving and begging her to take her right away, with no more words and no more delays. Instead, Lexa works her jaw and then she says; “I like this. Carry on, please.”

Lexa’s stubbornness is quite endearing, but the thought of rewarding her for that is soon dashed as Clarke considers something much more teasing. Cruel even. From her kneeling position between Lexa’s legs, she moves a hand towards Lexa’s centre. She’d barely enjoyed the view presented before her until now and Clarke has to work not to falter in her agonisingly slow progress as she takes in the sight of Lexa’s pussy; pink, and neat, and already visibly glistening with slickness. Lexa’s eager clit is starting to show between her small lips, already swollen from arousal. When Clarke’s fingers finally make contact, Clarke can’t help but to let out a quiet grunt of satisfaction as Lexa’s wetness coats her skin.

“I can tell that you’re enjoying it,” Clarke says, voice low and husky, “Dripping wet and I’ve barely touched you anywhere exciting yet,” she continues and her fingers tease the wet pink flesh around Lexa’s opening as she talks, but go no further. Then she drags her fingers upward, spreading Lexa’s lips but pointedly avoiding contact with her clit. Even so, Lexa lets out a whine of satisfaction, no doubt thrilled that Clarke has finally decided to pay some attention to the place she craves to be touched and kissed most. Clarke thinks that that would be too easy, top kind, and so she draws her fingers back and turns Lexa’s pleasured whine into a more anguished sound.

Clarke assesses her fingers, notes the way that the flesh glistens with Lexa’s desire. Her mouth waters, compelling her to place her own fingers in her mouth to enjoy the fruits of her labours. Clarke resists and rather she lowers the hand towards Lexa’s chest and paints a shimmering trail of Lexa’s own desire over the flesh of Lexa’s left breast, ending with a firm drag of the finger over the nipple that leaves it shiny and delectable as it pebbles under Clarke’s touch.

“You’re tits are gorgeous,” Clarke says, continuing now with her complete adoration of Lexa’s every inch, “So pert. And so sensitive all over.” Clarke palms the soft flesh, her hand fitting wonderfully over the small globe, and she kneads and teases at the flesh until Lexa’s chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly. Clarke relishes the feeling of Lexa’s heartbeat under her hand. She parts her fingers slightly and captures Lexa’s nipple in the gap, squeezing lightly as she continues to paw at Lexa’s breast. Suddenly, she switches tactics and attacks the stiffened nipple directly with a sharp pinch between thumb and forefinger.

“Jok,” Lexa mutters out a curse in response.

“But most sensitive here,” Clarke speaks as she pinches again, even harder, “And so beautiful. Pointed and eager and begging to be sucked and bitten.”

“Sha, Clarke,” Lexa says, confirming that what Clarke had described is exactly what she needs.

Clarke obliges her and at last she covers Lexa’s body with her own again and brings her mouth down on Lexa’s breast, taking as much of the flesh as she can into her mouth, sucking slightly with her lips. Clarke hums against the flesh as her tongue traces the pattern her finger had made earlier, the taste of Lexa that she painted there finally in her mouth. When her tongue flits over Lexa’s nipple Lexa’s hips buck. The involuntary reaction of total pleasure spur Clarke on and she closes her mouth over the flesh until she has just the nipple captured between her lips. She sucks and rolls the thing on her tongue, coaxing a string of mewls from Lexa. Then she releases the flesh and wastes no time before switching over to the other breast. Clarke is pleased to find the nipple on that one just as hard and eager even without being touched yet. She closes her mouth around it and this time, she grazes her teeth against the pebbled flesh, lightly at first, and then more insistently. She feels as Lexa’s hand strokes up her neck and makes a fist in her hair, tugging ever so slightly. The slight sting makes Clarke quiver and she quickly swats Lexa’s hand away and lifts her head from Lexa’s breasts.

“No, you don’t get to touch me, or I’ll want something back,” Clarke states firmly.

She watches a frown pass over Lexa’s face before Lexa gives one of her almost imperceptible nods and she obediently places her errant hand back on the bed and grabs at the sheets instead.

“Good,” Clarke praises, “Now don’t move them again.”

Another nod and Clarke is satisfied that Lexa is still willing to play along. She quickly lowers her head to Lexa’s chest again and runs a trail of searing kisses from the underside of her breasts, down her sides, and then across the toned plane of Lexa’s stomach. She revels at how Lexa squirms, how the movement makes her abs tauter and more defined so that Clarke can trace their shape with her tongue. She stops a while.

“You’re abs are so fucking sexy. When I see them I just want to climb on top of you and grind myself against them; make myself come and leave your skin soaked with my need for you,” Clarke makes direct eye contact with Lexa as she speaks from where she is positioned over Lexa’s stomach, sees the way Lexa’s lust-filled eyes widened at her explicit words. She imagines Lexa’s mind filling with images, memories of times when Clarke had done exactly what she’d just described. Clarke feels her own pussy begin to throb at the idea and she brings her thighs closer together in the search for friction before she catches herself and parts them again. She hadn’t intended on leaving herself as worked up as Lexa.

Clarke bites her lip and lowers her eyes back to Lexa’s tummy. “I like how ticklish you are here,” she announces and she exhales a gentle stream of warm air against Lexa’s flesh before placing her mouth against the skin and blowing. Lexa shudders and shrieks with laughter and the sound is beautiful, and musical, and betrays nothing at all to the ears in the adjoining rooms.

“And I love the sound of your laugh,” Clarke says as she halts her playfulness.

“You’re ridiculous,” Lexa retorts, her voice quivering with the remnants of her giggles.

“I’m cute,” Clarke argues back.

Lexa snorts. “You’re too much of a tease to be cute.”

Clarke pouts but gave a shrug. She is being a tease, she knows, but the sudden change in tone had been necessary to give her time to calm herself down. And since the ache between Clarke’s thighs has now lessened to a reasonably ignorable hum, her tactic had worked.

“Still, you’ve reached my stomach now. There’s only one logical next step,” Lexa speaks again.

“I agree,” Clarke responds and then she slides further down Lexa’s body and sucks the flesh of a toned, strong thigh into her mouth. When she releases the skin, it is already blooming in a grey black mark where her lips had been. “These gorgeous long legs,” Clarke says with satisfaction, for she knew that they hadn’t been at all what Lexa had meant.

Lexa lets out something that is almost a sob. 

“They’re so long,” Clark reiterates for effect.

“I know,” Lexa mutters in defeat, catching on quickly to what Clarke was doing.

“It’s going to take me,” Clarke pauses to press a kiss to Lexa’s thigh, “such,” another kiss, barely a centimeter lower than the last, “a,” kiss, “long,” kiss, “time.” 

Clarke is barely halfway down Lexa’s thigh when she bites into the sensitive skin. A hand finds Lexa’s other thigh and Clarke digs her nails into the flesh and scrapes down to mirror her mouth’s progress. The dual, but different, sensations of slight pain elicits a string of whispered trigedasleng curses from Lexa and Clarke notes how Lexa’s fists squeeze tighter at the fabric of the bedsheets. Clarke continues on, her nails scratching down to the knee on one leg, whilst her mouth nips and licks it’s way down to the other. And then she switches mouth and hand around and continues in the same way all the way down Lexa’s sculpted calves to her ankles.

“You’re ankles are amazing,” Clarke says in between tracing the shape of Lexa’s ankle bone with the flat of her tongue. “And for the record, I like your feet too because they don’t smell.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Lexa says and her voice is sharp despite the words, a testament to just how highly strung Clarke’s thorough exploration of her body is leaving Lexa.

Clarke doesn’t answer back, but instead makes much shorter work of kissing and scratching her way back up to Lexa’s hip bones, where her scratches fade to soft swirling patterns to make Lexa shudder. Clarke turns her head to the side and lets it rest on Lexa’s hip a moment, and she finds her eyes drifting down to the neat curls of hair between Lexa’s legs. Clarke swallows and she feels Lexa shift beneath her, no doubt in anticipation. Lexa’s eagerness only spurs the evil side of Clarke on however. 

Without giving Lexa time to comprehend and protest, Clarke picks her head up and launches herself upwards and towards Lexa’s mouth. She kisses Lexa fiercely, a hot and bruising kiss that leaves them both breathless when finally Clarke relents. When she pulls back, she is met by one of Lexa’s famous scowls,

“You’ve already done my lips,” Lexa points out.

“I guess you’re right,” Clarke admits and so she cranes her neck up to land a peck on the tip of Lexa’s nose, “I love your elegant nose then,” she says and then, “Now turn over.”

Clarke lifts herself up to allow Lexa to shift herself as requested. At first, Lexa does not budge and she simply stares up at Clarke with eyes that were somehow both hard and doleful. Then, with a defeated sigh, Lexa moves, rolling herself over to lie on her stomach. Clarke grants herself a moment just to enjoy the view before her; Lexa’s toned back and round ass below her, waiting for the same rapt attention she’d given to Lexa’s front. She starts with her hands, massaging the taut muscles around Lexa’s shoulder blades a while until she works out a satisfied groan from Lexa, and then Clarke dips her head and kisses the space between the bones. 

“I think I could go on forever about your back. It’s perfect, toned but soft. There’s so much strength there. So much grace in the way you carry yourself.” Clarke pauses her talk to trace the top of Lexa’s tattoo with her tongue. She does it with her eyes closed for she has studied the design enough times to know it from memory. The lack of sight makes her acutely aware of the smell of Lexa’s skin; the mintiness of the body wash she uses faded and just barely perceptible, the salt of the lust-born perspiration on her skin, and that smell the was uniquely Lexa; light and fresh and sweet and ever so comforting to Clarke’s senses. 

Clarke retracts her tongue and sighs, then she promptly kisses her way down the rest of the tattoo, pressing sloppy open mouthed kisses to each circle as she shifts herself downwards. When she reaches the small of Lexa’s back she stops to admire the dimples there before pressing a kiss to each one in turn. “Love these,” she murmurs into wonderfully soft skin.

Now, Clarke props herself up so that she can fully appreciate the generous swell of Lexa’s ass; the way her cheeks curve outwards from the base of her back and how her hips flare dramatically in a wonderful hourglass in spite of the near lankiness of the rest of her frame. Clarke traces the curve of one cheek with a forefinger, all the way from the top to where it curves in to meet Lexa’s thighs.

“Now this, I’d write poems about this if I could,” Clarke states.

“An ode to Heda’s ass? I’m sure that would go down well on the streets of the capital,” Lexa responds, her voice muffled slightly by the pillow. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t share the poems,” Clarke assures, “I wouldn’t want everyone to know how much I love to get myself off against these beautiful round cheeks. How this shelf provides the perfect amount of friction against my pussy.” After saying the words, Clarke bites down hard against the flesh at the top of one of Lexa’s cheeks. A muffled groan is her prize.

“Nor would I want everyone to know how much you love it when I bite you, mark this ass as mine, and mine alone,” Clarke continues, and sure enough, her teeth had left a visible imprint on the flesh that would soon develop into a decent bruise. She ghosts a finger over the mark she’d made.

“Or slap me?” Lexa’s voice almost startles Clarke, so focused is she on the sight before her.

Clarke glances up towards Lexa’s face, “Is that a request, love?”

Lexa responds with an eager nod and then, “Beja, Clarke.”

The sound of Lexa pleading her sends Clarke’s head spinning and she blinks a few times as she tries to focus. She kneels upright and places two firm hands on Lexa’s hips.

“Up,” she says, though she is already pulling Lexa up onto all fours even as she barks the request and Lexa, pliant and willing, is happy to be handled into position.

Once she has Lexa on all fours, Clarke spends some time palming at her cheeks, squeezing and kneading. Then she positions herself, chooses her spot and brings her hand down against Lexa’s flesh in a light, testing spank.

“More?” she asks as she soothes the area she’d just slapped with soft rubs of her palm.

“Just a little,” Lexa requests.

Clarke obliges and brings her hand down again, in the same spot, harder than before but certainly not as hard as Lexa has asked for before now. It’s exactly what Lexa wants right now and Clarke has to grin proudly as Lexa lets out a pleasured moan through the mouthful of pillow she’s just bitten down on. Clarke repeats the action of soothing the skin and spanking again, once, twice more, earning her more moans each time. Then Lexa lifts her head from the pillow and turns her neck to glance back at Clarke.

“Clarke,” Lexa stutters her name out, “I can’t-” she trails off, seemingly too lust addled to form sentences.

“You can’t what, babe? Tell me,” Clarke encourages.

“I can’t wait any more. Please,” Lexa tries.

Clarke continues to massage Lexa’s cheeks, the pressure of her fingertips turning the grey black of where she’d spanked to white. “Please what?”

“Please make me come. There’s still one place you haven’t told me about yet,” Lexa all but whimpers the words out; a begging, whining whimper.

Clarke smiles. “Put your head back down and let me see you then,” she instructs.

Lexa obeys immediately, lowering her head back onto the pillow and lifting her ass further into the air. Lexa parts her legs more and Clarke all but gasps at the sight presented to her. To say Lexa is soaked would be an understatement. Her pussy is practically dripping with desire, her pink lips glistening and ever so inviting. It takes Clarke all the self-control she has not to just dive in right away and taste Lexa, to drink her in until her flavour and smell are all Clarke knows of the world.

She settles for using her fingers to part Lexa’s lips, so that Lexa’s soaking wet opening is visible. Lexa’s clit is gorgeously swollen and sticking out proudly between her lips, just begging for love and attention.

“You’re so beautiful, Lexa,” Clarke says, “There’s nothing about you I don’t love. The way you look when you are so wet for me. The way you smell. The taste of you.”

With that, for she simply cannot not wait any longer, Clarke bows her head forward and closes her mouth around Lexa’s pussy, sucking her inner lips into her mouth and savouring the heady taste that coats her tongue as she laps up the mess she’s created. She hums in satisfaction and the vibrations cause Lexa to buck her hips backwards, urging Clarke on. Clarke releases the flesh from her mouth and this time, she tastes Lexa with a broad stroke of her tongue, lapping over Lexa’s clit and stopping at her entrance. Clarke savours how much stronger Lexa's taste is there; stronger still when the tip of her tongue darts inside Lexa.

The moan that Lexa lets out is only just quiet enough not to blow their cover. After so much build up, Clarke can only imagine how good it must feel for Lexa to finally have Clarke right where she wanted her. She was certain that if she gave Lexa exactly what Clarke knew she needed, everything would be over very soon. But Lexa had been ever so obedient, had humoured Clarke's teasing, and always made her requests politely. 

Decided, Clarke wastes no more time teasing and she moves her tongue back to Lexa's proud clit. She starts with slow broad licks, up and down, but quickly builds up speed. When Lexa’s constant gasps turn into a series of low moans, Clarke begins to circle her tongue around the swollen bundle of nerves. The moans from Lexa get louder.

Finally, Clarke closes her mouth around Lexa's clit, sucking the bud onto her warm, wet tongue, her lips providing a keen suction. As she predicted, Lexa lasts no longer and Clarke smiles, even as she works at Lexa's clit with her mouth, at the painfully loud scream of her name that erupts from Lexa as her orgasm hit.

She feels as Lexa’s hips still a moment, before they start bucking wildly as the waves of pleasure take her. Lexa's climax causes a fresh trickling of desire to drip from her opening and Clarke releases her lips from Lexa's clit to eagerly lap up the wetness, enjoying the way that Lexa's pussy thrums under her lips and tongue.

At last, totally spent from the intensity of a climax that Clarke had made her wait entirely too long for, Lexa stops quivering and crying out, and she slumps down onto her belly with a groan.

Clarke takes some time to clean herself up; licking the rest of Lexa from her lips and tossing the hair that had fallen over her shoulders back into place, before she too lowers herself fully onto the mattress. She lies on her side and peers at Lexa, who already has her eyes closed.

“I think we may have failed at the being quiet thing babe,” Clarke says.

“You did that on purpose,” Lexa replies without opening her eyes, “ Now shhh.”

Clarke smiles. She leans in close to Lexa and places the gentlest of kisses to each eyelid in turn. “I love your beautiful green eyes the absolute most,” Clarke whispers, though she was almost certain that Lexa had already succumbed to sleep, “Because no matter where we are, when I look into them, I'm home.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [An Ode To Lexa v2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895671) by [Combatboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combatboots/pseuds/Combatboots)




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